


Infinitesimal

by TransScribe



Category: Gravity Falls, Rick and Morty
Genre: Alcohol, Existential Crises, M/M, Self Loathing, but also sappiness, the usual, y'know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-15
Updated: 2016-12-15
Packaged: 2018-09-08 17:44:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8854945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TransScribe/pseuds/TransScribe
Summary: Based off a prompt provided by Lyns and expanded on by Fox from the stanchez slack chat_ _
Rick pays for their date. Again. Stan knows it shouldn't be such a big deal, but it is. 
He finds - well, I wouldn't quite call it "comfort", but perhaps a different perspective - in the stars





	

**Author's Note:**

> Pretty happy with how this one turned out! Thanks to lynsaneinthemembrane and fox-salazar for giving me the basis of this fic and fox for proof reading and providing a title. 
> 
> Hope you like it!

Rick threw back his last shot of the night. He let his head fall forward, letting it hit the table of their booth gently. It was more morning than night by this point, and the two of them were reaching the tipping point between enjoyably-shitfaced and too-drunk-to-find-their-way-home. 

Rick noticed Stan grabbing his wallet and stopped him. “I-i-it’s, ’s fine. I c’n pay, don’t worry ‘bout it,” he slurred. 

“Nah, I wanna pay. You always do.”

“Y-yeah, but I’m offerin' again. ‘Sides, y-y-you can pay m’ back later,” Rick responded with a smirk. 

“No, babe, really, ’s fine, I got money.”

Rick lay back, trying to put on a stern face. He didn’t quite manage, all the drinks he’d had were now showing through his lax features. “Lee, I’m payin. Y-you worked your ass off on this scam, keep the money. Save ’t.”

Stan sighed. He knew Rick wouldn’t give in, even with how drunk he was. He didn’t want to let him pay, but Rick was stubborn. “Yeah, a’ight.”

Rick grinned and pulled out his wallet. He slapped down a few bills _again _. He paid for them _again _. Stan knew he shouldn’t let it get to him. Rick was just trying to do something nice. But fuck if Stan didn’t feel like shit anyway.____

_Don’t think about it. He’s being nice. ___

_But he’s always paying, there’s gotta be something about it. Does he think I’m not good enough? ___

_But that doesn’t make any sense. If he thinks I’m not good enough, I wouldn’t be worth his money and he wouldn’t pay for me, right? ___

_But maybe he thinks I’m too irresponsible to pay for myself. ___

_He’s right. Just look at me. ___

_I’m not good enough. At anything. ___

_He knows I’m not good enough. ___

_I always wondered how long it’d take him to realise. ___

——

Stan wasn’t sure how he’d managed to get them both home in one piece. He was hyper focused on the road whilst simultaneously withdrawn into his own mind, clouded by a drunken haze. 

He unlocked the door to their shitty motel room, kicked off his shoes and dropped straight onto the bed. He felt the mattress dip as Rick lay down next to him. Soon he heard the other man snoring, probably passed out from the drinks he’d consumed. 

Sleep wasn’t coming as easily for Stan. His mind was trapped in a spiral he was struggling to get out of. He was conflicted - he _knew _this shouldn’t be hitting him so hard, but it _was _, and he couldn’t stop it. His head felt hazy from the alcohol and he eyes felt strained and dry from staring at the wall too long. He felt the skinnier man move behind him in his sleep. Stan sighed quietly. Even if he was able to fall asleep he doubted it would be a restful one.____

He stood up from the bed, ensuring he wouldn’t wake Rick in the process. Waking Rick for any reason - purposeful or not - was not a good idea. He stumbled slightly as he stood and made his way to the door. It was fairly cold outside, but that’s what he needed. Stan lit a cigarette as he leaned back against the brick wall. 

Why was he reacting like this? Sure, it had bothered him before, but why was the feeling so strong now? It was tiring. So, so tiring. Logically, he knew Rick was offering to be nice, but he didn’t _know _that. The alcohol in his system didn’t make any of this easier.__

He ran a hand down his face, huffing out of frustration. Why was his mind so fucked up like this? Why couldn’t he just let Rick pay for a date? Why did he have to _think _so much?__

He looked out at the night sky. It was getting lighter as it approached dawn, less of the inky-blackness it had been before, but he could still see the stars. He smiled to himself. He thought about Rick pointing to those stars and telling Stan he’d take him to every one of them. Maybe it’d be better out there. Just the two of them, together in the vast expanse of space, exploring the galaxy, the universe… The multiverse? Rick kept saying stuff about that, that everything is so much more than “those stupid government jerks want us to know”, and they were going to prove it. 

He kept his eyes fixed on the stars, kept his mind fixed on all those stories of space and aliens and other dimensions Rick would ramble about while kicking back in the passenger seat of the Stanley Mobile and he understood. He understood how Rick was always saying that he was meaningless and nothing they did mattered, because he could see how small they were now. As he looked up, he could see so much, but that was only a tiny part of a bigger picture, and if all this above him was small, he was just a spec. Stanley Pines and all his problems and insecurities that seemed so big were less than a blip on the radar of everything, and he was filled with so many mixed emotions.

If nothing mattered, he wondered why he bothered to do anything, but at the same time he wondered why he didn’t do everything, because if it didn’t matter then there was nothing stopping him. More importantly, though, if nothing mattered, then why was he standing outside in the cold, fretting about a date Rick paid for? 

There were so many questions, but it was ok, because now he _understood _. He understood why Rick was so quick to switch from “I don’t give a fuck” to a deep existential crisis. It made sense, because this is what Rick thought about _all the time _. In that moment, despite the literal wall between them, Stan felt closer to Rick than he ever had.____

He stubbed out his long forgotten cigarette and went back inside, crossing the room and slipping under the covers. He wrapped his arms around the other man as he slept. He had meant to go outside and clear his head, but now his mind was full of different questions. They were bigger questions, much more complicated, yet so much simpler than trying to decipher the whirlwind of emotions Stan was trying to tackle before. They were questions he was ok to leave unanswered. 

As Rick subconsciously shuffled closer into Stan’s arms, he smiled gently. The bill from earlier didn’t matter anymore, because nothing did, except for the Here and Now, and right now, they were ok.

**Author's Note:**

> Stan is sometimes an emotional drunk.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Feedback fuels my little writer heart and is much appreciated.


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